


Cloak of Darkness

by tomatopudding



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-25
Updated: 2011-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 19:05:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomatopudding/pseuds/tomatopudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was used to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cloak of Darkness

During the daytime hours, it seemed idiotic and Mohinder berated himself for being so stupid as to willingly open his window. But when night came and it was time to go to bed, Mohinder always opened the damn window no matter how freezing cold or stiflingly hot it was outside. He was used to it by now.

Mohinder remembered the first time that it had happened. He had been asleep when the window snapped open, jarring him awake. He held his breath as a whisper of cotton betrayed the fact that somebody was trying to get into his room. A soft thump revealed that they had succeeded in getting through the narrow window. Mohinder had opened his eyes a crack to see the silhouette of a tall figure standing in the shadow just beyond the reach of the glowing moon.

The person had begun to approach and Mohinder had squeezed his eyes shut, trying to slow the pounding of his heart. He could hear the intruder’s breathing grow louder and louder.

‘I know you’re awake, Mohinder,’ a familiar voice murmured in his ear. Lips brushed across his temple and Mohinder’s body had stiffened.

The voice chuckled. Mohinder opened his mouth to speak, but his lips were forcefully clamped shut. Mohinder could feel the power pushing against them.

‘Ah ah ah, no talking tonight, my pet.’

Mohinder’s eyes had widened as he struggled against his bonds.

He had three different identities when he came on his visits to Mohinder in the dead of night. When he was Sylar, they fucked, and it was hard and fast and rough and painful and made Mohinder stifle his screams in his pillow. When he was Zane, they had sex, and it was smooth but shallow and emotionless. When he was Gabriel, they made love, and it was slow and sweet and drew the softest keening and moaning to ever leave the murderer’s lips.

It was Sylar who took him that first night, who pressed into him with barely any preparation, who crashed his eager mouth against Mohinder’s locked lips. And when Mohinder managed to fight against the power and pull his lips apart to scream, Sylar silenced him with his tongue.

Mohinder was used to it now, and he even found himself looking forward to those night-time visits, especially when it was Gabriel who came to him. If he was telling himself the truth, Mohinder did know why he looked forward to those nights, and why he always propped his window open.

It had happened just about a week and a half previously that Gabriel had paid Mohinder a visit. It was one of those rare times when the man stayed to cuddle until Mohinder fell asleep, though he was always gone by the time Mohinder woke. The words were spoken softly and Mohinder doubted at first if he had actually heard correctly. But then Gabriel had whispered them again, more insistently but with the worried edge of someone hoping for a particular answer. Mohinder told himself that he had said it only to get Gabriel to relax and bury his face into the crook of Mohinder’s neck again, but he knew in his heart that he had meant them.

I love you, too.


End file.
